The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 513

"Intruder!"

"Someone is fighting. Go… go!"

Swooosh!

The guards reacted to the noise at once. Boots pounded against stone, and orders were shouted across the halls. Within moments, the entire Imperial Palace stirred like a disturbed nest. The alarm spread fast, and the quiet structure turned into a place full of running figures and clashing sounds.

Kael and Martina ran through a side corridor, keeping low.

The guard ran around but they did not notice that behind one tall folding screen, two figures had been hiding in the shadows.

Equipped with artifacts to hide their aura,the two sneaked around.

"Let's go," Martina whispered.

Swoosh!

Both of them blurred as they moved. Their speed was so high that their steps made almost no sound. They slipped past corners, paused, listened, then moved again.

Soon they reached the Royal Chamber hallway. Several guards stood before the heavy doors, weapons raised. But their posture looked strange. They were alert, yet not tense enough for a true emergency.

Kael and Martina hid behind a stone column at close range. They listened.

"God knows what's happening," one guard muttered.

"I think it's another abyssal monster causing trouble," another said.

"Abyssal monster? I don't think so."

"What do you mean you don't think so?"

"It's almost a daily thing now. Those beasts are eating our own people."

Kael and Martina exchanged a quick look. Shock flickered in their eyes.

Then—

The guards heard a faint rustle.

They began to turn.

A thin crimson line flashed through the air.

Before any of them could react, several heads separated cleanly from their bodies. In one smooth motion, Kael had cut through multiple A-rank guards with cold precision.

Martina gasped softly, but she moved at once. She stepped in and stabbed the falling heads, pinning them so they would not roll and hit the floor loudly.

She looked at Kael.

He just shrugged.

They pushed the door and slipped inside. The heavy door clicked shut behind them, sealing out the noise of battle.

Both of them spread out at once, weapons raised, bodies tense. They expected the Emperor or elite guards to appear any second.

Kael checked the left side, pulling back heavy velvet curtains and glancing behind tall cabinets. Martina vaulted over a divan and swept the right side, blade ready.

"Clear," Kael whispered, confused.

"Clear," Martina echoed, still alert.

They met in the center.

The room was empty.

The Royal Chamber was completely empty.

The large four-poster bed was neatly made. The sheets were smooth. The fireplace was cold, filled with settled gray ash. Nothing looked recently used.

"This doesn't make sense," Kael hissed. "The guards outside were protecting an empty room? Why double the guard for a ghost place?"

Martina did not answer. She was scanning the room slowly.

"Search again," she said quietly.

They began a more careful check.

Kael tapped the walls lightly with the hilt of his dagger, listening for hollow sounds. He moved rugs aside and checked the floor beneath. Martina examined shelves, drawers, and the large throne-like chair near the far end.

She paused.

"Do you feel that?" she asked.

Kael frowned. "Feel what?"

"Air," she murmured. "There is a draft. The windows are sealed, and the door is tight. But there is a breeze."

She stepped onto the raised platform and moved around the large lion-headed chair. As she crouched near its base, a candle flame nearby flickered hard, pulled toward the dark space behind the chair.

"Here."

Kael joined her.

The floor behind the chair shaped as a throne looked perfect, a smooth mix of black and gold tiles. But when Martina ran her fingers along the lines, she found a very thin crack.

"It is not just a floor," she whispered. "It is a lid."

She stood and studied the throne itself. Her eyes stopped at the lion's left eye, a ruby that looked slightly duller than the right.

She pressed it.

Click.

A deep grinding sound moved through the floor under their feet.

Slowly, the section of floor behind the throne sank a little and then slid backward with a heavy stone sound. A square opening appeared, swallowing the light.

A staircase spiraled down into darkness.

Cold air rose from below.

Kael stared at the black opening, his expression turning serious.'Since when did finding a secret basement become this easy.'

"What should we do?"

"Should we enter?" Martina asked, her brows drawn tight as she stared at the dark staircase.

Cold air kept rising from below. It was not the normal chill of underground stone. It felt heavy and damp, and it carried a strange scent. It was not rot, and it was not blood. It smelled like something that had been sealed away for a very long time.

Kael did not move.

He kept looking at the opening, but his body had already gone still in a way Martina recognized. That was how he looked when danger was close and he was thinking fast.

"No," he said at last.

Martina turned to him. "No?"

"It's too quiet," Kael replied. His voice was low and steady. "Too obvious to step in."

He crouched near the edge of the opening, but he did not lean over it. Instead, he took a small metal coin from his pouch.

"Watch," he murmured.

He flicked the coin into the darkness.

They listened.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Nothing.

No clink. No bounce. No echo from stone.

Martina's fingers tightened around her sword. "It didn't hit anything…"

Kael gave a small nod. "That staircase is not going down."

A faint distortion trembled in the air above the opening, like heat rising from sunburned ground.

"Space seems folded here," Kael said. "That is not a passage. It feels like a trap."

"I think we shouldn't enter."Kael suggested making Martina nod.

"Tskk.."

There was a pause between breaths that felt deliberate, as if whatever lurked beneath was listening before deciding to breathe again.

Martina stepped back at once, her boot scraping against the floor. "What the hell is that?"

The hole in the ground seemed wider now. Not physically—no stone moved—but the darkness inside it felt closer, pressing up against the edge like a waiting mouth.

The candle flames bent toward the opening.

Thin streams of smoke stretched downward, pulled into the black as though seized by invisible fingers. The air in the room grew cold and damp, carrying a coppery stench that made the back of the throat sting.

Then a voice spoke behind them.

"You noticed faster than I thought."